


Opening the Gates

by Quasar



Category: Nightrunner - Flewelling
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:New Year Resolutions 2006, recipient:elynross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-01
Updated: 2002-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quasar/pseuds/Quasar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Alec stopped Seregil from running away at the end of Stalking Darkness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening the Gates

**Author's Note:**

> The first few lines of this story are quoted from the book Stalking Darkness by Lynn Flewelling.

Micum pulled a rolled letter from his coat and held it up angrily.  
"You gave us a scare with this, you idiot. I don't know whether to  
kiss you or kick your ass from here to Cirna!"

 

For the first time in months, Seregil summoned a cocky, crooked grin.  
"Don't strain your leg on my account. Alec's already done both."

 

Micum took a second look at the two of them and returned the grin  
knowingly. "Well, it's about time!"

 

Alec flushed, and his shoulder went stiff under Seregil's light grip.  
Pulling away, he climbed out of the pond. "We should be getting  
back," he said in a low voice. "Kari must be worried."

 

Seregil frowned after his young friend.

 

"She would have come after you herself," Micum said with a chuckle,  
"except she knows I'm the better tracker. And of course we saw Alec  
was on the trail already."

 

Without answering, Alec crossed to the stretch of grass where Patch  
had stopped. Seregil watched the younger man in concern. It had been  
months since he'd seen blushes and shyness from Alec. Could he truly  
be ashamed of what little they'd done already? Was he regretting it?  
Had he kissed Seregil only to keep him from running away, out of some  
skewed sense of duty?

 

Seregil knew those fearful questions came from the wounded part of  
him, the same voice that had urged him to leave his friends and seek a  
peaceful place to die. But knowing didn't silence the voice, or make  
it any easier to disregard.

 

"What's wrong with the lad?" Micum asked in an undertone.

 

Seregil shrugged, making his own way out of the pond. "He's angry at  
me."

 

"Aye, and so he should be!"

 

Alec returned leading both Patch and Cynril, Seregil's mare. "She's  
lame," he said with a nod towards the smaller horse. "I think she  
wrenched her shoulder." His face flamed more than ever; he had forced  
Patch into a collision with Cynril because of his own anger. "You two  
ride on ahead, and I'll lead her down."

 

"Not without shoes, you won't," Micum growled.

 

Seregil realized for the first time that his young friend was  
barefoot. Patch was unsaddled, as well, and her bridle was uneven as  
if fastened in haste. Alec must have been in a tearing hurry to come  
after him. "You can ride double with me," he suggested.

 

To his relief, Alec didn't hesitate to accept the offer. He let  
Seregil mount first, then scrambled up behind him. He clung to  
Seregil's waist with no sign of self-consciousness, but he was silent  
as they retraced their path. Seregil leaned back against Alec's  
warmth as the track tilted downward.

 

They went slowly for the sake of Patch and Micum's weak leg, speeding  
only when they reached level ground. Soon the house came in sight and  
the dogs ran out to greet them.

 

Alec slid down from Cynril's back as soon as they entered the  
stableyard. "You go inside," he said shortly, catching Patch's reins  
as Seregil dismounted. "I'll see to the horses."

 

"Barefoot?"

 

"I won't let them step on me."

 

"I'll help you; it'll go faster."

 

"No. Go inside." Alec brought up a smile to soften the sharp words.  
"Kari won't believe you're safe until she sees you. And you should  
eat; you've been losing weight."

 

"The lad's right," said Micum. "Go on inside. I'll give him a hand."

 

Seregil sighed and headed for the house, anticipating another  
unpleasant confrontation. But Kari was holding the new baby to her  
breast and gave him no more than a stern look. "I suppose Micum and  
Alec have already had their say," she said softly, "so I'll hold my  
peace. But, Seregil, one thing I must say: do you not realize what  
this would have done to them?"

 

Seregil shrugged uncomfortably. He knew Alec and Micum would both  
miss him and mourn him, but that voice in his head murmured that they  
would be better off without him, once they got over the first shock.  
Even now that he had given up his plan, it was hard to believe he  
could be much good to anyone, emotionally crippled as he was.

 

Kari sighed. "Come break your fast with us, then. Illia knows  
nothing of what's been happening."

 

Micum came in after a few minutes, as Seregil was doggedly forcing  
himself to eat one bite at a time. He had no doubt the food was  
delicious; Kari's food always was. But it was as if he couldn't taste  
it at all, any more than he could grieve for Nysander's death or  
rejoice at the birth of Micum's son. He was numb all the way through;  
all he could seem to feel was a vague sense of apprehension.

 

"Alec's poulticing that shoulder of Patch's," said Micum. "He'll be  
in soon."

 

Seregil nodded and took another small bite.

 

"The lad says you'll be leaving once Patch is fit," Micum added with a  
long look.

 

"Yes. I can't . . ." Seregil couldn't think of a good way to put it.

 

"Don't worry," said Micum kindly. "If anyone can understand itchy  
feet, I can."

 

But it was more than simple wanderlust driving Seregil to leave. He  
simply couldn't stand to stay with Micum's family and see their  
happiness, their health and warmth and wholesomeness, when he himself  
was cold and broken inside. Alec seemed to understand that, although  
the boy had recovered well from his own hurts in this environment of  
kindness.

 

When Alec came in from the stables, however, he seemed every bit as  
closed up as Seregil felt. He refused Kari's offer of breakfast.  
"No, I can't -- I have to -- I'll be upstairs," he said awkwardly.

 

Seregil looked around at the others and pushed away his half-finished  
plate. "I guess I'd better go, um, help him." He felt almost as  
awkward as Alec.

 

In the small room that they shared, he found Alec pacing jerkily back  
and forth with a sheaf of papers in his hand. Seregil leaned warily  
against the doorframe, watching him.

 

"I still can't believe you did this," said Alec on his third turn,  
brandishing the documents.

 

"I'm sorry," Seregil told him, not entirely sincerely. He was  
becoming just a little annoyed that everyone seemed to take his  
departure as a personal affront. Wasn't it his business what he did  
with his life? Couldn't they see it had nothing to do with them?

 

With a sharp curse, Alec threw the papers into the hearth -- an empty  
gesture, since the fire was unlit in the summer. Seregil pursed his  
lips in annoyance nonetheless; he had worked hard on those papers.

 

"Come on, then," said Alec suddenly. He strode over to the bed and  
started to pull at the lacings of his shirt.

 

"What?"

 

"Let's have sex."

 

"_What_!"

 

"It's what you want, isn't it?" The lacings were already loose; as  
the shirt gapped open, the morning light caught the golden hairs  
sprinkled across Alec's sun-browned chest.

 

"No! I mean -- Alec!" Seregil crossed the room in two strides and  
caught the young man's hands before he could pull the shirt over his  
head. "Stop. Just wait."

 

"I've waited long enough," Alec growled. "I wanted the right time to  
come, and it never did, and I almost lost you from waiting too long."

 

Seregil stared at the hands he was clasping. "You're shaking. Alec,  
you're not ready for this."

 

"I don't care!" Alec pulled free. "I'm not afraid."

 

"Then what's wrong?"

 

Alec turned away, his jaw clenching. "It's just -- I keep seeing --"  
He sat suddenly on the bed, as if his knees had given way.

 

"Seeing what?" Seregil knelt by the bed, concerned and curious. Alec  
wasn't simply angry at him for trying to leave; there was more going  
on here.

 

"You. Dying. In my arms . . ." Alec gulped for air. "And the look  
in your eyes. As if it didn't matter if you died, because you thought  
I betrayed you."

 

"Tali . . . you know that wasn't real." Seregil didn't know what else  
to say. Alec had described his torture more than once, but always in  
such broken phrases that it was hard to get a clear picture of what  
had happened -- except how much it had hurt him. Just as Seregil was  
hurting him now, it seemed.

 

"You have that look in your eyes sometimes, now. I see it when you  
think no one is looking. You don't care if you live or die."

 

"It's not the same, Alec --"

 

"It is. It is the same. That was the worst thing, you know? Out of  
all the things Ashnazai and Beshar did, all the -- the things they  
made _me_ do, that was the worst, when I thought you died in front of  
me. And now, you're choosing exactly that! Choosing to go away and  
die, because you think Nysander betrayed you, asked more of you than  
any man could give and stay sane . . ."

 

"Alec, no. No! It's not the same." Seregil clutched his friend's  
knee desperately, trying to think of a way to separate the situations,  
trying to make himself different from Alec's torturers.

 

"I can't lose you," Alec groaned. "Not now. Not like that!"

 

Abruptly, he pulled Seregil by the collar into a fierce kiss, their  
teeth cracking together. Then his hands were under Seregil's elbows,  
urging him up onto the bed, pulling him on top of Alec. When they  
were both sprawled half on and half off the bed, Alec began to fumble  
at the buttons of Seregil's coat.

 

"Wait, tali. Stop. Don't do this!" Seregil resisted, trying to get  
away without putting his elbows or knees in the wrong place, trying to  
catch Alec's hands.

 

"Whatever it takes," Alec gasped. "I'll do anything. _Anything_,  
Seregil!"

 

"Not when you're angry, tali, please!"

 

Alec went still all at once. "Angry? I'm not angry," he breathed,  
but his fingers still clutched Seregil's lapel.

 

Seregil stopped resisting and lay limp atop the younger man, tucking  
his head under Alec's chin and capturing Alec's hands between their  
chests. He could _hear_ the sobs the young man was fighting down.

 

"I'm sorry," Alec whispered. "I didn't mean to seem angry. But I  
couldn't let you go. Please, Seregil."

 

"I won't," Seregil whispered, his own eyes stinging. "I won't go, I  
promise. I won't leave you, tali."

 

They clutched each other as if they feared to be swept away in a  
flood, while Alec's chest shuddered with captive sobs and tears wet  
his cheeks. "I'm all right," Alec gasped at last, calming himself  
with long whistling breaths. "It's all right."

 

"Yes, everything's all right, tali," Seregil said. "I'm right here."  
He planted small kisses on Alec's chin and neck.

 

The younger man gasped, arching up beneath him. "What can we do?" he  
breathed. "I want to do _something_." His hands fluttered  
uncertainly around Seregil's shoulders.

 

"We will," Seregil promised. "We'll do everything in time, if you  
want. But when you're ready, eh? Not just so you can keep me with  
you. There's no need for that."

 

Alec's blue eyes widened. "No, Seregil, of course not! Not just for  
. . . I wanted it long before you tried to go. But, now --" He  
clenched Seregil's shoulders convulsively. "I do want to keep you  
with me. I want to make it so you can't ever leave me!"

 

"I won't. You have my promise."

 

Alec managed a half smile. "That's good. Because I know if I tied  
you up you'd just escape, and I don't suppose I'll be good enough in  
bed to keep you enthralled forever."

 

"Oh, I don't know about that, tali." Seregil nuzzled his love's neck  
again, searching for the spot that had drawn a reaction earlier.  
"I've been waiting for this even longer than you have."

 

Alec's hands roamed restlessly up and down his back, warm even through  
the layers of shirt and coat. For several minutes they clung and  
kissed and breathed each other's breath, until Seregil drew back. He  
rolled to the side and propped himself on one elbow.

 

Alec followed, leaning over him a little, then paused. "I . . . don't  
really know what to do," he confessed, his cheeks going faintly pink.

 

Seregil grinned easily. "Try whatever seems right. I'll tell you if  
it works or not."

 

"But won't you be, um . . ."

 

"We have all the time in the world, tali." Seregil let his grin  
widen. "I doubt Micum or Kari would interrupt us for all the gold in  
the north."

 

Alec blushed harder at this reminder, but leaned in to try kissing  
Seregil again. He nuzzled and licked at the older man's ears, trying  
the same caresses that had pleased him and going back for more  
whenever Seregil murmured in approval. After several minutes of this  
enjoyable activity, Alec grew bold enough to unbutton Seregil's coat  
and loosen the laces of his shirt, exploring further down as the  
collar gapped open.

 

Gradually, the situation progressed until the two men were embracing  
sweetly on the bed, clad only in their breeches. There was a brief,  
humorous interlude while they both struggled to remove Seregil's  
boots, and then Alec returned to his very thorough examination of  
Seregil's chest and shoulders. For a moment, Seregil considered  
teaching him about passion marks, then decided to let the boy learn  
for himself.

 

It was delicious, and deliciously slow. Seregil lay back and let Alec  
explore at will, shivering as the young man found sensitive spots he  
had forgotten he had. It was almost like Seregil's first time again,  
but without the anxiety of trying to please someone more experienced,  
or the burning, bewildering ache to finish  
whatever-was-about-to-happen this very instant. Seregil was  
rediscovering subtle sensations he hadn't felt in years, but at the  
same time . . .

 

At the same time, he was failing to feel something that was very  
familiar. He began to tense up as he realized that Alec would  
discover his lack of response sooner or later, and think it was his  
own fault. How could Seregil explain that it was all part of the  
deadness inside him?

 

The discovery came sooner rather than later. After a very thorough  
treatment of Seregil's arms -- right down to the fingertips -- and his  
back, and the curiously unfeminine behavior of Seregil's nipples, Alec  
skipped over the intervening territory of Seregil's abdomen with only  
a quick downward brush. Then, before Seregil could stop him, Alec was  
curling his hand over the cloth that covered an unmistakable softness  
at Seregil's groin.

 

Alec froze, staring at Seregil's face and still clutching him  
intimately. Whatever he saw in the eyes of his would-be lover must  
have been disappointing, for he rolled quickly to the far side of the  
bed and sat up.

 

"Alec--"

 

"Sorry," the young man muttered, his face turned away. "I shouldn't  
have pushed you."

 

"You didn't push. Alec, tali . . . It's not that I don't want you,  
it's just--"

 

"I know." Alec twisted enough for Seregil to see a parody of a smile  
on his face. "You aren't ready yet. I rushed you."

 

Seregil had to stifle a surge of humor that he knew Alec would  
misunderstand. "No, that's not it." He sat up and reached for his  
lover, wrapping an arm about Alec's shoulders, but the young man  
remained stiff and unyielding in his grasp. "I just can't feel  
anything anymore."

 

Alec was silent for a long space and sounded uncertain when he spoke  
again. "You mean, I should be more . . . forceful?"

 

"No!" Seregil gave the shoulders he held a sharp shake. "I told you,  
it isn't you. I mean I can't feel _anything._ Happiness or, or  
grief, or anything in between. I don't even feel the cold, much,  
anymore."

 

"That's because it's summer," Alec pointed out, and got another shake.

 

"Food tastes like sawdust. Colors and sounds seem muted, somehow.  
Yesterday I cut myself, trimming a quill, and I didn't even notice  
until I saw the blood. When I held Micum's son and realized I  
couldn't even feel joy at his birth, that's when I knew I couldn't go  
on."

 

"You mean _that's_ why you --" Alec bit the words off sharply.

 

"That's why. I thought . . . I'm half dead inside, Alec, don't you  
see? I'm no good to anyone like this. All I'll do is hurt you, like  
I'm hurting you right now." He waved a hand at his quiescent groin.

 

"You're not hurting me!" Alec protested. "I was just . . . confused,  
that's all."

 

"It must seem like some sort of insult to your prowess, I know."

 

"It doesn't! I don't _have_ any prowess, Seregil, you know that!  
Anyway, it helps a lot to know what's been going on with you. I  
didn't understand. I thought you were angry with us, or hurting . . ."

 

"None of that," said Seregil softly. "I don't feel anything, really."

 

"Don't you think it will pass? After my father died, it was more than  
a week before I felt anything. And then I felt it all at once. I was  
angry, grieving, frightened -- all the things I never had time to feel  
while he was sick. Your feelings will come back, too, if you give  
them time."

 

"I thought of that, of course," said Seregil slowly, touched by the  
boy's earnest concern. "But it's been months, Alec, with no change.  
I've known what you're talking about before, times when I didn't have  
the luxury to indulge in feelings and they all came down on me later.  
This seems different, somehow. I don't know how to say it, tali, but  
it's like something is broken inside me. And I'm starting to believe  
it will never be fixed."

 

Alec's arms came around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Give it  
more time," he urged. "Maybe you just didn't wait long enough. And  
anyway, you were wrong, thinking that it means you're no good to  
anyone. I don't care if you feel broken or half-dead, I still want to  
be with you, and I don't care where or what you're doing. I don't  
care about that, either." He patted Seregil's upper thigh shyly. "I  
don't care if it never works -- but I bet it will."

 

Seregil smiled wearily. He'd had partners in the past who suffered  
performance problems, and he knew well the tensions it could cause  
even though no one was at fault.

 

"Is it okay if I keep, um, exploring?" Alec asked, his cheeks  
charmingly pink. "Even though you're not really enjoying it?"

 

"I was enjoying it a great deal," Seregil assured him. knowing that  
his words wouldn't be believed. "But perhaps it makes more sense for  
me to work on your pleasure, just now." He brushed Alec's neck with  
one finger and licked delicately along the seam of the younger man's  
lips.

 

"I'd like to keep on with what I was doing, if you don't mind," Alec  
said firmly as soon as his mouth was freed. "I thought you were  
. . . I was afraid you might be getting impatient, since I was doing  
everything so slowly. But now I know that's not a problem, I'd rather  
keep going. I can take as long as I want about it, now." He looked  
down as his hand traced a path from Seregil's sternum to his navel.  
"I guess I skipped over some important parts," he whispered as  
Seregil's stomach muscles leapt under his touch.

 

Seregil lay back with a sigh as Alec's ministrations continued. The  
young man was fascinated to discover that the skin on one side of  
Seregil's navel was acutely ticklish, while a soft touch on the other  
side made him groan with delight. Soon Seregil's sides were aching  
and his head whirling with the rapid swings between desire and  
laughter.

 

Alec reached the waistband of Seregil's breeches and insisted that  
they must come off. Seregil was minded to demand the same in return,  
but decided to respect Alec's shyness and leave the younger man's  
loose trousers in place, for the moment. He allowed Alec all the time  
he needed to discover that unlacing another man's breeches was far  
more difficult than removing his own. But Alec was determined, and  
soon he had Seregil completely bare to his gaze.

 

Seregil nearly cringed in nervous anticipation, but Alec simply looked  
him up and down with a soft smile on his lips, then bent to place a  
gentle kiss on the head of Seregil's lax member. He glanced up in  
surprise at the thick gasp this prompted, then continued his journey  
downward.

 

The sparse, curling hairs on Seregil's thighs received due attention,  
and for some reason Alec insisted that the backs of his knees were  
especially appealing. Alec kneaded his calves until Seregil was ready  
to melt, then went on to research the best way to handle Seregil's  
long, arched feet without tickling.

 

Although untutored and perhaps unintentional, it was all very  
effective at building Seregil's anticipation and desire. He was  
panting for breath by the time Alec released his toes and slithered  
back up his body.

 

This time, Alec was giving full attention to Seregil's privates,  
aroused or not. He cradled Seregil's soft organ and fondled the soft  
pouch beneath, tracing the patch of tender skin behind Seregil's balls  
as he watched closely for a reaction.

 

And he got it. Seregil was writhing now, fully aroused in mind if not  
in body. He gasped with excitement as Alec tucked strong hands under  
him and massaged his buttocks enticingly. Then, when Alec bent down,  
buried his nose in the next of dark curls, and inhaled deeply, it was  
more than Seregil could bear.

 

With one deft twist of his body, Seregil flipped his young lover over  
and pulled him further up the bed. "Enough," he growled, and  
descended to plunder Alec's mouth. "You've had your turn," he gasped  
when he came up for air at last. "Now it's mine."

 

He ran his hands swiftly and lightly over Alec's shoulders and torso,  
tracing the sleek muscles with appreciation and skillfully finding all  
of Alec's hot spots. He teased Alec's nipples with his fingers until  
they were tight and pink, then kissed and sucked them until the young  
man squirmed beneath his touch.

 

He licked and nibbled his way down Alec's abdomen while his fingers  
worked cleverly at the drawstring of Alec's trousers. When his lips  
encountered the edge of the fabric, he tucked his hands under Alec's  
smooth behind and stripped the trousers free in an instant. Alec's  
erection sprang forth, long and slender and flushed with blood.  
Seregil didn't linger to admire it as he was tempted to do, but took  
it straight into his mouth and began learning its contours with his  
tongue.

 

Alec gave a shout and his hips surged upward uncontrollably.  
Seregil rode the thrust easily, not letting Alec push into his throat  
until he had braced his hands on the younger man's hips for better  
control. Then he went to work in earnest, sucking and licking at the  
shaft and teasing the tight sac just below.

 

Panting and moaning, Alec didn't last long before he surged upward  
again, flooding Seregil's throat with long spurts of bitter fluid.  
Seregil swallowed it all down happily and eased back to lap at the  
head of Alec's organ as his hands moved soothingly up and down the  
younger man's thighs.

 

When Alec had relaxed completely, Seregil shifted to lie with his head  
across his lover's abdomen, his fingers still carding idly through  
tight curls of dark gold. Perhaps he should have taken more time to  
explore while he had the chance, but he'd been too excited to hold  
back.

 

"Did I rush you?" he murmured against his lover's warm skin.

 

"Hmm?" Alec breathed.

 

"Never mind." Seregil's lips curled in spite of himself. Apparently  
Alec had no objections. And there would be time later to learn all of  
the younger man's secrets, including the ones Alec didn't know himself  
yet.

 

"Com'ere," Alec mumbled, tugging at Seregil's shoulder. He allowed  
himself to be urged up the bed and sprawled with his head on Alec's  
shoulder, his arm across Alec's chest, and both Alec's arms holding  
him close. The young man's breathing slowed and deepened toward  
sleep, and Seregil found himself drifting drowsily as well, even  
though he had never reached physical satisfaction.

* * *

 

"What's this I hear about you frightening the cook?" Kari demanded.

 

Alec looked up with half of a savory bread roll in his hand, the other  
half already in his mouth. "Mm uth," he began, then remembered to  
swallow -- several times -- before trying to speak again. "I was  
hungry," he explained.

 

Kari's eyebrow rose. "Oh? That sounds promising. Did you manage to  
stimulate Seregil's appetite as well?"

 

Alec felt his face heat instantly. Was sex supposed to make a person  
hungry? Or was Kari referring to another kind of appetite? He wasn't  
sure; this sort of innuendo never came easily to him. "I missed  
breakfast," he said, and took another bite from his roll. "Seregil  
didn't. He's asleep now."

 

"Oh, even better!" Kari said with a smile. "Well done, Alec. Here --  
this cheese should go well with the bread. And there's a bowl of  
early cherries in the other room, if you'd like."

 

He nodded and followed her, still chewing his roll. His cheeks were  
still warm from her assumption that he had helped Seregil to sleep.  
Sex _did_ make a man sleepy, he knew that from his past experieces,  
but he hadn't actually done anything to wear Seregil out. There was  
no way he could say that to Kari, of course.

 

"Your cook thought I should wait until dinner to get food," he  
explained, frowning at the memory of being treated like a child who  
had willfully skipped a meal. "But I didn't want to leave Seregil  
alone that long -- he's been having nightmares."

 

Alec himself had been awakened by the start of a nightmare. He was  
getting better at waking himself before the really bad parts started,  
but it was disturbing even so. He knew what came next, and he had to  
work to distract his mind from the image of Seregil's blood flowing  
out over his hands, Seregil's accusatory eyes going dim and glazed in  
death. He shuddered even at the thought.

 

Kari was watching him sympathetically. "I'm sure Seregil will be all  
right now," she said. "He needed you, even if he didn't know it  
himself. You're the best thing that could have happened to him."

 

Alec sighed. "I hope you're right." He had doubts that he couldn't  
voice; he had to find a way to make Seregil feel something. The  
numbness the older man described would be disturbing even if it hadn't  
urged him to self-destructive behavior. And Seregil's lack of sexual  
reaction had become a symbol of the problem in Alec's mind. Perhaps  
it pointed to a way of approaching the problem. Alec only wished he  
had more experience at loving men -- or more experience at loving  
anyone at all.

 

Sex with Seregil had been nothing like his previous encounters. Most  
likely that was because Seregil hadn't been trying to get something  
from him, unlike the others. Ylinestra had only seduced him so that  
she could interrogate him about the sewers leading to the Oreska; he'd  
realized that eventually, although at the time he assumed she had  
truly wanted him, or at the very least, his body. But she had made  
her seduction swift and overpowering, using the power of sex to make  
him vulnerable. At the time, it had seemed to be what any man would  
want for his first sexual experience -- immediate gratification,  
without the drawn-out torture of anticipation. But afterwards, he had  
felt dirty and used without even understanding why, precisely, until  
the attack on the Oreska.

 

Myrhichia had been more patient and considerate of a young man's  
innocence. She had taught Alec a few tricks, including the pleasures  
of drawn-out anticipation. But he couldn't forget that she was only  
doing it for money, after all. And what had seemed at the time to be  
great patience on her part now looked more like thinly-veiled  
tolerance, when compared with Seregil's behavior today.

 

Seregil had shown true patience, along with a tenderness and concern  
for Alec's feelings that only served to throw his other experiences  
into harsh contrast. It wasn't so much a matter of sex with women  
compared against sex with a man; rather, it was sex with people who  
wanted something from him versus loving the man who had given him  
everything he possessed today, even his life. There was simply no  
comparison. And whether it resulted from his own lack of skill or  
Seregil's recent sufferings, the fact that Alec had gained more  
physical enjoyment from their loving than Seregil would have to be  
addressed. It would have to be fixed, and soon.

 

Alec reached absently for another bite of cheese, only to find that  
the plate was empty. The bowl of cherries was more than half  
depleted, as well, and Kari was watching him with an amused  
expression. "I'm sorry!" he gulped. "I was miles away."

 

Kari smiled. "I would tease you about it, but from your face I don't  
think they were entirely pleasant thoughts. You look stubborn now,  
though. That's good; you'll need to be stubborn to deal with  
Seregil."

 

"I will be. I am. I can help him, I just -- I'm not really sure  
how," Alec confessed.

 

"You'll find a way, I know." She frowned, biting thoughtfully at her  
lip. "I can give you one suggestion, but it won't be an easy one to  
put to use."

 

"What is it?"

 

"I think the key is to get Seregil to admit he's angry at Nysander."

 

Alec nodded, unsurprised. "I thought of that, too. But I don't think  
Seregil will believe it. He thinks of Nysander as the one who  
suffered the most -- the one who was wronged."

 

Kari snorted indelicately. "It was Nysander's plan from the start.  
He knew what was coming and had a choice in the matter. Seregil  
didn't. You might try pointing that out to him."

 

"But Nysander is dead," Alec said slowly. Even though he saw the  
sense of what Kari was saying, it came hard to him to speak ill of the  
dead -- especially one so courageous and beloved.

 

"Nysander was a great man, and he died heroically. He stopped that  
god from manifesting, and no one else could have managed it. But he  
had his whole life to prepare for that prophecy, and Seregil was  
surprised by it at the last moment." Kari broke off and cocked her  
head alertly; Alec could just make out the wail of an infant from  
somewhere in the house. "Anyway, I think that's the key. Get  
Seregil to admit he's angry, and the rest will all come flooding out  
as well. But as long as he thinks of Nysander as some perfect martyr,  
all his other feelings will be locked up behind the same barrier."  
She rose. "I have to go now. It sounds like you have a lot to think  
about. I know you can do it, Alec. Just give Seregil time and  
patience and all the love you have."

 

Alec smiled, feeling his face warm again as she left the room. He  
knew she was right that anger was the keystone in the barrier to  
Seregil's emotions; pull that one out, and all the others would come  
tumbling down as well. But he suspected that talking to Seregil about  
Nysander would only lead to a nasty argument. He would have to find  
another approach, a back way to get to Seregil's feelings. And he  
thought the key to the back door might just be in bed.

 

Standing and dusting the crumbs from his trousers, Alec headed for the  
bedroom with renewed determination.

 

* * *

 

Seregil was dreaming about finding Alec on that rocky shore. There  
was a distance to the dream, as if he were merely an observer rather  
than a part of the action -- but even with that thin veil of  
separation in the way, Seregil could feel the remembered emotions. He  
had never known such a profound sense of joy and relief, even mixed as  
they were with confusion and distress at Alec's odd behavior.

 

And then the dream went strange. He was holding Alec, trying to  
console him, but instead of pulling Seregil into a kiss as he had in  
reality, Alec bent down -- Seregil was suddenly naked, as well as his  
friend -- and took Seregil's impossibly large erection into his mouth.

 

Seregil woke to find that it was true, or almost so. He still didn't  
have an erection -- much less a monstrously huge one -- and Alec was  
wearing clothes, but those were undeniably Alec's lips and tongue  
caressing him very intimately. Alec met his eyes as they opened,  
watching with an expression somewhere between amusement and calculated  
determination.

 

Seregil wanted to say something about the unwisdom of startling a  
nightrunner awake in such a fashion, but the argument would be  
unconvincing since he had clearly not taken Alec's head off at the  
shoulders when roused. And in any case, he couldn't seem to find the  
words amid the flood of delicious sensation that was overwhelming him.

 

It was delightful, but Seregil still wasn't hard, nor likely to get  
so. He couldn't find a way to explain that, either, so he just  
groaned in a combination of pleasure and dismay at what would  
inevitably happen when Alec was disappointed. And not just Alec;  
Seregil groaned again as it occurred to him that these wonderful  
feelings Alec was creating would never reach a natural conclusion.

 

Then Alec began to suck. With Seregil not even partially engorged,  
Alec was able to take him in to the very root without gagging and suck  
like the most talented courtesan. Seregil gave a strangled cry and  
let his head drop back to the pillow. His hips rose reflexively, but  
it didn't seem to bother Alec; he simply moved with Seregil's thrusts,  
sucking like a whirlpool all the while.

 

After what seemed an eternity of groaning and writhing at the mercy of  
Alec's tongue, Seregil realized to his amazement that the  
ministrations were beginning to have an effect. His organ was  
lengthening in Alec's mouth -- slowly, but enough that the young man  
could no longer take it all in without choking.

 

Seregil rose up on his elbows to stare at his young lover, and Alec's  
eyes crinkled with amusement. He backed off enough to swirl his  
tongue wickedly around the head of what had become a recognizable  
erection, then dived back down to swallow as much as he could once  
more.

 

Seregil dropped back against the pillows, stunned. It was a simple  
reaction, he realized; all that sucking was bound to have an effect,  
pulling blood to Seregil's groin as surely as a love-bite pulled it up  
to the skin. But as much as he tried to tell himself that the  
reaction was only physical, he could feel an amazed gratitude toward  
Alec beginning to suffuse his thoughts. He hadn't expected to feel  
this way ever again, but Alec's stubbornness had given the gift of  
pleasure back to him.

 

It was magnificent -- and a little frightening, he realized as he  
squirmed to the bidding of Alec's mouth and hands. He could feel his  
climax looming, like an enormous tidal wave building up and up until  
it blotted out the sun. At once he was seized with a fear that giving  
in to that pleasure would mean drowning, losing a part of himself  
forever in the whelming tides.

 

He tried to resist, tried to form the words to tell Alec to stop, but  
they wouldn't come out. He caught Alec's head in his hands and tried  
to push the younger man away, but Alec simply grabbed his wrists and  
held them aside. Somehow, despite his inexperience, it seemed Alec  
knew exactly what he was doing. Seregil knew what his lover was  
thinking as clearly as if Alec had told him: having tasted for the  
first time the heady power to give sexual pleasure, Alec was not about  
to give it up so soon. Captive under the lash of consuming sensation,  
Seregil could only groan and twist and try to hold back the  
inevitable.

 

When it came, it was everything he had feared. He caught Alec's hair  
and thrust sharply, uncontrollably, into the young man's mouth. He  
saw Alec's face go red with the effort not to choke or bite, and he  
knew there would be bruises on his hips where Alec was gripping him.  
But none of that mattered, because the wave was breaking, an enormous  
wall of water tumbling down and ripping into shreds of foam. It was  
happening in Seregil's groin as he spasmed again and again with acute  
pleasure, but it was happening in his chest as well -- another wave  
building into unbearable tension.

 

He held perfectly still when his climax tapered off, his eyes locked  
onto Alec's. The young man managed to pull free at last, gasping and  
coughing for air, but his expression wasn't accusatory -- only  
expectant. He seemed to be waiting, as if he too could feel the  
pressure building inside Seregil.

 

Then it broke. Something inside Seregil shattered, and the breath he  
had held captive came out in a weird sort of braying sob. It happened  
again, and everything clenched -- his fists closing, his legs drawing  
up and his arms curling inward. He tried to pull away from Alec,  
tried to find a place to hide and die in peace from this terrible  
wound ripping at his heart, but the boy wouldn't let him go. Alec was  
beside him, suddenly, pulling him close and murmuring soothing words  
into his ear -- except that Alec gasped and moaned with pain at the  
same moments that Seregil did.

 

Seregil wailed into his young lover's chest, words that came out in an  
unintelligible mixture of Aurenfaie and at least three human  
languages. He was glad no one would be able to understand, because he  
was saying horrible things -- mostly about Nysander, to begin with.  
He was so angry, more furious than he had ever been at his worst  
enemy! And more deeply hurt and betrayed than he had been even when  
his family cast him out.

 

He could remember with impossible clarity the expression on Nysander's  
face as he brought the sword down, and the feel of that accursed helm  
splitting under the force of his blow. Nysander had looked at him,  
so patient and understanding -- just as he always had been when  
Seregil failed yet another test of his magic -- and Seregil had killed  
him. Just like that.

 

He couldn't live with himself, but he couldn't get away -- not with  
Alec holding him so tightly, and his limbs turned to water, and the  
breath like fire in his chest. He could never, ever forgive Nysander  
for asking that of him, for looking at him with just that expression  
at the end. He couldn't bear to be seen, and especially not by Alec,  
who was so innocent and courageous, who had only been strengthened and  
never sullied by his own terrible ordeal.

 

But Alec was right here with him, hearing the ugly words that Seregil  
poured forth and perhaps even understanding some of them. Alec was  
weeping as well, and crying out something himself . . .

 

In a moment of numb abeyance, Seregil realized that Alec was shouting  
the same things he was feeling; the same anger at Nysander and sense  
of being forever broken, forever dirtied, was coming from Alec's  
mouth. A moment later, the words changed, and Alec was sobbing out  
his fears for Seregil. And Seregil could feel it clearly for himself;  
a terror of loss, a desire to help, a helpless ignorance of the best  
way to go about it.

 

Seregil pulled back from his lover's grasp just enough to lift his  
head and stare. Alec looked back, wild-eyed with alarm and grief. He  
wasn't saying anything, but Seregil heard the words clearly  
nonetheless: What's happening to me?

 

"Tali," he murmured, realizing for the first time how apt the word  
was. Then another wave of grief and horror came rising up inside him  
\-- not quite so overpowering as the first time, but deep and dark and  
sour nonetheless. He held his lover tight and wept and wept as if  
there could never be an end to weeping.

 

It seemed like hours later -- and perhaps it was -- when he fell  
silent and still at last. His face and Alec's were both smeared with  
tears and other less charming fluids. He felt like a dried husk, with  
no water left inside to be squeezed out. His feelings -- the grief  
and anger and hurt that had been inside him but untouched for so long  
\-- were still present, but muted and distant. He felt like a bowl  
that had been overfull with some noxious slime, kept tightly lidded  
for months, then at last emptied out. There was still a sour residue  
left behind of all the dark emotions he had kept confined, but the  
greater part of it had been drained away.

 

Alec was curled in next to him, breathing deeply as if he were asleep,  
but Seregil knew he was only drifting wearily. He could sense the  
young man's emotions if he tried; bewilderment and a little fear of  
this new, unknown thing between them, and underneath a solid  
determination to keep Seregil well and safe, no matter what. Further  
down still, a lingering sense of wonder and pride that he had brought  
Seregil physical pleasure and emotional release, and just a hint of  
smug satiation remaining from their first sexual encounter. It was  
all coupled to a love so pure and certain that it took Seregil's  
breath away. Could Alec truly feel so kindly toward him, after all  
that he had seen Seregil do?

 

Alec turned his head and looked up with reddened eyes, perhaps sensing  
Seregil's attention. "What was that?" he whispered hoarsely.

 

Seregil lifted a hand that felt like lead to stroke over his lover's  
tangled, sweat-damp hair. "I think we're talimenios now," he  
murmured, finding his own voice just as raspy.

 

"Talimenios -- lovers? Isn't that rather obvious?"

 

"It means a bit more than sexual partners, love. There's an emotional  
bond as well, a sort of empathic connection. It happens sometimes  
between 'faie -- not often, but it's not unheard of, either. I always  
thought it required at least one partner to have some magic ability,  
but perhaps I misremembered."

 

"You do have magical ability," Alec chided softly, then went silent  
for a long space. "So if that was empathy, I was feeling what you  
were feeling?"

 

"I suppose so."

 

"Does it help?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

Alec raised his head to look Seregil in the eye. "Is it easier, when  
the emotions are shared between two people? Or does it just double  
the bad feelings?"

 

Seregil blinked. "I have no idea. I never thought of it that way."  
He considered for a moment. "I thought -- for the last two months I  
was certain -- that if I ever let myself feel . . . those things, they  
would rip me apart completely. I didn't think I would even survive  
it." He tightened his arm around his lover's shoulders. "I  
_wouldn't_ have survived it, without you."

 

"That's okay, then," Alec murmured, his head dropping wearily back to  
the pillow. "I can do this, if it really helps you."

 

Seregil swallowed hard. Forming a talimenios bond was supposed to be  
a joyous occasion, not an unplanned ordeal. "The connection isn't  
always so intense, I think," he offered. "Maybe this is just what it  
feels like when it's new, or just because --"

 

"Because you needed it so much," Alec filled in.

 

"Oh, tali," Seregil breathed, grief welling up anew at the thought of  
what Alec was sacrificing for him.

 

"Shhh." Alec pressed a kiss to the bony point of his shoulder. "It  
will get better. A connection like this could be very useful for  
nightrunning, you realize."

 

"I can think of other uses," Seregil returned, nudging his hips  
against Alec's and only then remembering that the younger man was  
still clothed.

 

"Hmm, yes," Alec breathed. "Could help me while I'm learning all your  
tricks. I have a lot of catching up to do." He ran a hand down  
Seregil's ribs, but it was not so much an arousing caress as a promise  
for later; Seregil could feel the intention clearly through their  
bond. They were both too drained now to be good for much.

 

"Rest now," Seregil agreed. "Maybe eat something, and then we can  
work on your education." He frowned in the direction of the window,  
trying to judge the angle of the light. "Are we missing dinner?"

 

"Prob'ly," Alec mumbled, nearly asleep. "Steal some later."

 

Seregil stared in bemusement at his young lover, who was settling  
easily into sleep after all the surprises and new experiences this day  
had brought to him. Seregil had always known that Alec was stubborn,  
courageous, and great-hearted -- but he'd never expected to benefit so  
directly from the young man's strength of will.

 

His stomach growled, and for a moment Seregil considered getting up to  
find food. Perhaps he could bring a plate back for Alec. He  
contemplated his clothes, scattered over the floor, and the distance  
to the kitchen, and the prospect of questions from Micum and Kari  
. . . and decided he'd rather remain in his talimenios's arms even if  
it meant far worse deprivation than a missed meal. He snagged the  
edge of the bedsheet with his toe and pulled it up to his shoulders,  
making sure that Alec was decently covered as well.

 

A moment later, as he descended towards sleep, Seregil heard a soft  
tap at the door and the sound of plates being set on the floor just  
inside the threshold. It seemed they wouldn't have to go foraging for  
food when they awoke, after all. He smiled and pressed his face into  
his lover's hair. Sleep first; there would be time enough to face the  
world when they were ready.

 

end


End file.
